The Goddess

by Robyn Grady

  “Yanni?”

  “Yes, Your Highness?”

  “I’m shaking so badly I’m afraid I might drop her.”

  Yanni took back the figurine as Darius’s senses sped to catch up. “The other figurine lying smashed on my floor is a fake?”

  “Correct.”

  He sent a pained look. “You don’t have any more lurking around?”

  “She’s the real deal.” Yanni smiled down at her. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  They both stood and admired her until Darius, feeling so relieved, put forward a suggestion.

  “Helene thought we should build her a home. A place where she would be protected but where others could enjoy her, too.”

  “You want to put the goddess on display?”

  “I know. It sounds exploitive.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Darius’s brows hiked up. “You agree?”

  “We don’t have to decide tonight.” Yanni slipped the figurine back into her safe. “From what you’ve told me, you have a more pressing matter to attend to. How will you handle meeting your uncle tomorrow?”

  Remembering his parents, particularly his mother, Darius blew out a breath. “My father exiled the man. As far as I can see, there’s only one thing I can do.”

  …

  Not long after the birds had begun to chirp the next morning, Darius knocked on Helene’s door. He waited and knocked again, this time louder. Finally, the door fanned open. Helene wore an inexpensive cotton dress. As always, she glowed, but smudges beneath her eyes showed she hadn’t slept.

  “I was harsh last night,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “If that accident was anyone’s fault, it was mine. And I don’t want you to worry about the figurine.” He would explain all about last night’s incredible discovery later when a decision had been made about the goddess’s future residence. “I regret the words we had.”

  She leaned against the jamb. “I haven’t been able to stop going over it all in my mind. Everything that’s happened since we met. You might not believe that I didn’t touch the figurine—”

  “No. I do.”

  Her mouth tugged to one side then a shoulder came up. “Darius, I want to go home for a while.”

  His first instinct was to tell her she didn’t have to go anywhere. He could handle Galen, the coronation—it would be easier if she was by his side rather than him worrying about when, or if, she would ever come back.

  He wanted to bring her to him, kiss her, and apologize again, but he thought that would only firm her resistance. She didn’t want to be seduced. She wanted to negotiate.

  He slid both hands in his trouser pockets. “How long do you think you’d be gone?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe I could go with you.” He tried on a smile. “I should probably meet your mom before the big day.”

  “You can’t leave here now.”

  His hands came out of their pockets. “Then why don’t you stay?” He amended, “Just until Galen leaves and the announcements are made.”

  She held his gaze until her eyes began to shine. But she didn’t look away.

  “I think we should put off any announcements.”

  When dread sailed through his middle, he set his jaw. “You don’t want to marry me?”

  “You’ve talked enough about rebellion and traditions and superstitions…Darius, frankly, I’m a little spooked. And I have someone else to worry about now.”

  “So do I.”

  “Then you’ll understand.”

  He reached for her hands. He didn’t have any answers—only two words.

  “Don’t go.”

  She blinked several times as if fighting back tears.

  “Darius, I need to tell you…” She took in a breath. “I’m in love with you. Marrying you would be so much more than a convenience to me. But I can’t stay now. I need to go home. And, to be honest, I can’t say when I’ll come back.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Later that morning, Darius met Galen as he disembarked an incoming vessel. When the man, decades older than when he left, made his way down the gangplank, Darius walked straight up. Recognizing his nephew, Galen smiled and offered his hand.

  Looking into his uncle’s dark eyes, seeing the resemblance…For a moment, it was like seeing his father again.

  “Welcome home.”

  Galen set a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “It’s been too long.”

  Darius could have ordered a carriage straight back to the palace or headed for the other side of the island where only lovers hid away in the woods and the coves, but he didn’t want to hide. He was done with speculating on what ills might befall if he didn’t run his life to the letter of his father’s law. So he led Galen to Alexio’s taverna and was directed to his usual table by the waitress who Helene said had taken her place.

  “I know this must have caused an inconvenience,” Galen said, reaching for the coffee the waitress hurried to serve. “I appreciate you seeing me.”

  “I was surprised by your call. I didn’t know if you’d ever want to come back.”

  “I never wanted to leave but, for everyone’s sakes, I had no option.”

  And Darius’s father had had no option but to step up. But he didn’t want to dredge up bad memories; he was eager to hear about his uncle’s new life.

  “How is your wife?”

  Galen touched the gold band on his finger. “Ferah’s a little under the weather. She wanted to come meet you and Tahlia. We caught up with Nikos in London recently.”

  “We e-mail and talk on the phone. Nikos never mentioned it.”

  “I asked him not to.”

  A frisson of unease brushed Darius’s skin. What had been said? Why keep a meeting secret?

  Keeping his voice low, Darius tipped forward. “Why are you here, Galen? Why now?”

  The older man set down his cup with a slightly unsteady hand. “Firstly, I want to apologize for what happened all those years ago. I never intended for your father to have to take on such a heavy burden. He was my younger brother. I’d been raised to protect him.”

  Darius remembered his uncle’s kind ways. He had no doubt he wanted to protect his family. As it had turned out, he’d put them all in serious danger.

  “Your father might have thought I was selfish,” Galen said, “and irresponsible to carry on with Ferah when the rumors turned into threats. But nothing is ever cut and dry. I had a responsibility to Ferah as well. We were married, and I had vowed to stand by her. Your father didn’t know that many times she’d offered to leave and bow out of my life. Then a friend of hers contacted me.”

  Darius’s thoughts went to Helene and to how similar his own situation was to his uncle’s. This morning when she’d said she wanted to return to the States—when she confessed she was in love with him—for the first time, he had truly understood his feelings for her. A marriage would be more than a convenience to him, too.

  But something had held him back. As much as he wanted her to stay, he wondered if it might be wiser for her to slip away until Galen was on his way. Apparently, Galen had never had those kinds of doubts. Of course, that mindset had cost him the crown and a brother’s love.

  Reaching into his breast pocket, Galen withdrew a small dispenser and slipped a pill under his tongue then chased it down with more coffee.

  Darius wondered whether the trip had unsettled him. First, though, he wanted to hear the rest of his uncle’s story.

  “What did Ferah’s friend have to say?”

  “That my wife was pregnant. Or had been. She lost the baby.” Galen’s mouth tightened. “I blame myself. She was under such pressure. Then the unrest began to spiral. I made a choice and to this day, I don’t regret it.”

  Thinking of that child and his own, Darius asked, “Why are you telling me all this now?”

  He fingered the silver pill container left out on the table near his cup. “The doctors give me no more than a year.”

&
nbsp; The words echoed through his brain. Darius’s world rocked while his uncle looked only resigned. He leaned forward.

  “Can anything be done?”

  “I’ve accepted it. Ferah, unfortunately, is taking the news badly. We have friends, but with her parents passed on and no siblings, I know she’ll feel left on her own.”

  “You never had children of your own?”

  “A great sadness to us both.” Galen glanced around the taverna then out the window onto the street. A wistful smile curved his lips. “It seems like yesterday that I lived here with everything ahead of me. Life is so brief.” His grin was wry. “For us mere mortals anyway.”

  The goddess popped into Darius’s head. Suddenly he wanted Galen’s opinion. However, that waitress appeared again.

  “More coffee?” she asked.

  “Not now,” Darius said. “Thank you.”

  She collected the empty cups and drew the vase a little forward. “The geraniums are so colorful at the moment,” she said.

  As soon as she was out of earshot, Darius picked up the thread. When Galen had left all those years ago, he’d have passed on the secret of the cave to his brother. What would he say to the suggestion of sharing the figurine with the citizens of Tierenias — with the world?

  “There was an accident on the other island,” Darius began. “A cave-in.” When Galen started, Darius held up a calming hand. “No one was hurt, including the figurine. Since I’ve returned, it’s remained in my quarters. But last night, there was another incident.”

  Darius relayed the events. Before he could pass on that the genuine figurine had been kept safe in a separate vault all these years, Galen interrupted. He was more interested in Helene than the goddess.

  “You’re serious about this woman?”

  Darius exhaled. Why not come totally clean? “Helene is pregnant. I asked her to marry me.”

  Galen’s attention veered to the doves bobbing around in a planter outside the window as a smile spread across his face.

  “I’d like to meet her.”

  Suddenly, Darius felt the closeness again—the exact same emotions he’d known as a young boy who had idolized his uncle and had wanted to grow up just like him. He knew Helene would love him, too.

  Darius pushed back his chair. “We’ll talk more in the carriage.”

  As they moved toward the taverna’s doorway, from the corner of his eye, Darius caught a flash. That waitress was lowering a camera.

  With a cheeky smile, she shrugged. “Hope you don’t mind.”

  Darius was used to having his picture taken. However, while he was here, enjoying the food and company with Helene, no one had presumed to take a shot without asking first. He waved it away. If a backpacker passing through wanted a memento of the time she’d served the prince and an elderly friend coffee, why not?

  Back at the palace, Darius first settled his uncle into comfortable private quarters then rang to have his horse saddled. A few minutes later, he entered the stables. Ajax appeared, bounding out of a stall. He should have known he’d find his dog here. Ajax flew up but then stopped to sit still at his master’s feet. Otis appeared with Darius’s saddled horse. As the younger man offered the reins, courteous and professional as ever, a wave of shame engulfed him. Otis was a fine young man. Obviously he truly cared for his sister.

  Life was so brief.

  Darius took the reins. “Tahlia mentioned that you intended to speak with me today. She said you were thinking of going away and taking her with you.”

  Otis brought himself up tall. “For a week. I wanted to speak with you myself.”

  “I’ll give you my answer now.” Darius set his hand on Otis’s shoulder. “Have fun. But promise me something.”

  When Otis got his mouth to work, he said, “Of course.”

  “Come back. I don’t want to lose either one of you.”

  Darius swung up to the saddle and headed out. Ajax started after him but Darius shooed him back. “Sorry, but this ride’s solo.” He asked Otis, “Look after him until I get back?”

  Otis was already on haunches, ruffling Ajax’s ears. “Of course, Your Highness.” He corrected himself. “Darius.”

  Sometime later, Darius had reached the other side of the island. Cantering over the more secluded hillsides, he thought about Tahlia and Galen. Most of all, he thought about Helene. He didn’t want her to leave. In a way he hadn’t understood before, he wanted her to be his wife. He wanted to share her life. But he knew he could never keep her here unless she wanted to stay.

  He was walking his horse, debating how and where he ought to talk to Helene again, when he came to the crest of a hill he hadn’t walked since he was a boy. Below lay a particularly picturesque cove. In the water, unaware of their audience, a young couple swam, swirling, playing, and kissing in the shallows.

  Darius allowed the emotions to filter through him. That could be any couple, happy together, clearly in love. That had been Helene and him. But if he didn’t act quickly, she would leave. And once she was home, he might never get her back.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When Helene saw Tahlia rushing down the garden path with that river of glossy dark hair flowing behind her, she willed away the sick feeling churning in her stomach.

  “Darius just told me,” Tahlia called before she’d stopped. “You’re leaving? For how long? What about the baby?”

  While Helene swallowed against the ache in her throat, trying to find answers to impossible questions, Tahlia went on.

  “Darius is worried. Looking at you now, so am I.” Tahlia took her hands. “What happened?”

  “I just need to go home for a while. Let my friends and mother know I’m still alive. Let them know what’s happened.”

  Of course, that wasn’t all. Helene wanted to explain to Tahlia how she felt responsible for putting Darius under so much pressure. Her mother had implied more than once that she attracted trouble. More and more, she felt like Darius’s giant bad luck charm.

  She was about to ask Tahlia to come see her off at the dock later that day when she saw someone waiting a short distance away. Darius stood outside the gilded pavilion where they’d enjoyed a late breakfast many mornings. He looked so tall and darkly handsome. Her cheeks flushed and heart sank thinking of all the beautiful moments they’d shared wrapped in each other’s arms.

  But Darius had only proposed because of the baby she carried. If she were to slip out of his life, rather than distance making the heart grow fonder, the miles apart might make him realize he could shake her off. He didn’t need to marry her.

  She would never keep a child from his father. A shared custody could be worked out. Not ideal but perhaps better than tying Darius to a person who would constantly cause him grief, however unintentional. Besides, as wonderful as her time here had been, she missed her home: the shops and people and food. She even missed her mother.

  And, damn it, she’d always vowed never to marry unless the relationship was cemented in love and trust. Darius had never said that he loved her. And standing here now, watching his shoulders roll as he sauntered over, looking so sexy and strong, so worldly and simply wonderful, she felt a fool that a part of her had held out and hoped that he would.

  Tahlia glanced over a shoulder and saw her brother, too. “He spoke with Otis, you know. He said he’s fine with us going on vacation together. Otis said he really seemed to mean it. But he never would have accepted us being together if he hadn’t met you.”

  With that lump in her throat growing, Helene hugged her friend before Tahlia left and Darius joined her.

  A sea breeze tugged at his hair, and his eyes—black diamonds glittering in the sunshine—appeared devoid of emotion. Helene sensed the trip-wire tension ripping beneath the surface. If he thought pressuring her to stay would work, he was mistaken. She might feel as if she was breaking inside but, for a dozen reasons, her mind was made up.

  “Did you meet your uncle?” she asked in a remarkably steady voice.

  He
nodded. “Galen came back to make amends. Seems he hasn’t got long to live.”

  Helene’s chest tightened. That news fit with why Galen pushed his visit forward. She could imagine how distraught his poor wife must be. She wanted to ask how long Galen was staying, whether anyone had recognized him, but she couldn’t think straight.

  Darius simply looked at her, drinking in every plane and curve of her face, which made her prickle and tingle all over. It made her want to change her mind about going. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

  “I’m leaving late this afternoon,” she said. When his eyes darkened, she took a breath and, as difficult as it was, went on. “I’d rather you didn’t see me off.”

  “You want us to say good-bye here? Now?”

  Her thumping heartbeat pushed against her ribs. She ached to say yes and have him kiss her deeply and then murmur against her ear that he’d miss her. She longed to feel his hard, strong body pressed up against her. But that would be unwise. It was better they didn’t touch at all.

  She said, “I’ll come by before I leave.”

  He sucked down a breath. Even smiled. “I have a gift for you. It’s back at the pavilion.”

  If it was a ring, Helene couldn’t accept it. Still, he’d taken her news well and, God help her, she wanted a few minutes longer with him, so she followed him through the gardens a final time.

  As they moved inside of the pavilion and Darius crouched to recover something off the floor, Helene wondered again what the gift could be. When her gaze landed on what he held out, she shook her head, dumbfounded.

  Not possible.

  She’d seen it with her own eyes—the figurine had been smashed. Nothing had been left but chunks of rock and rubble.

  “This is a replica,” she decided. Like the ones sold at markets.

  “The figurine we brought back from the other island, the one destroyed last night, was the fake. Apparently the long line of Chief Aides has kept this, the real goddess, safe under their personal lock and key.”

  Her mind spun. It couldn’t be. The real figurine was safe?

  “I’ve spoken with Yanni,” Darius went on. “We’ve decided to take your advice. As soon as it’s finished, she’ll have her own special room with a glass viewing panel so that people can visit and see her for themselves.”